


Out With a Bang, Then With a Whimper

by NorthwesternInsanity



Category: Deep Purple (Band), Music RPF
Genre: Drama, Explosions, Fire, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, lost glasses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 05:56:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14970527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NorthwesternInsanity/pseuds/NorthwesternInsanity
Summary: ...The explosion onstage was only a small spark of the explosion building up within them... After the escape by helicopter from Cal Jam.





	Out With a Bang, Then With a Whimper

**Author's Note:**

> A fic I wrote trying to figure these guys out characterization-wise.

They all knew _something_ was going to happen before taking the Cal Jam stage. That was a given with the uproar over last minute changes to the plans.

Ritchie had been adamant from the word go. Considering the nature of the event, Jon Lord and Paicey had for once, rather than simply going along with what he wanted, tried to talk him down too. Perhaps the one time they'd truly dared to push against him was the one time it had no chance of helping anyone. It certainly hadn't done anything aside from getting the fuming guitarist further wound up.

Nevertheless, Jon pleaded him, citing it would just be easier, while Paicey argued that the festival was hooked up to so many different levels of management, and there were a world's worth of combinations in which they could end up with significant trouble to deal with if they didn't just go along with it. _Forget_ the fact that Ritchie had made it clear in the contract disputes what they'd agreed to and that they would perform if and only if those agreements were held.

He ended up unleashing one of his more severe tongue lashings on Paicey until he'd backed up to lean against the wall outside the door to Ritchie's room, crossing his arms over his chest, ducking his head, and sighing heavily. Crestfallen as he looked, Paicey was still too stubborn to change his mind on following what the promoters and event staff wanted enough to stay there and continue backing up Jon, who stood in front of him defensively, now showing restrained anger as he continued pleading with Ritchie.

"No," said Ritchie firmly, yet with a tone just above a whisper and barely audible.

"Ritchie, please, for the sake of-"

But Ritchie inhaled forcefully, closed his eyes, and held his hands up -fingers extended and palms forward -in the way that said he'd heard enough and it wasn't changing anything. He'd said it more than once, and he wasn't going through his reasons again.

_"No."_

Then he pushed the door shut in front of Jon and Paicey, the lock clicked, and all attempts of getting Ritchie to open it before the time he'd agreed on and expected were futile.

"No more, Jon. Let the stage managers do it then when they come after him," Paicey sighed when Jon tried another knock on the door. "He's not going to listen to us at this point. There's no use in carrying on, and we've got other things to do to get ready."

The problem was, following hours of non-stop pounding by event staff on the doors, and further attempts -which all continued until nearly the original agreed time -while everyone knew Ritchie was going to do something, nobody knew _what_ he was actually going to do. Until he did it.

Now the show was over, and sure enough, he'd done something pretty big. Far more massive than any of them had expected despite knowing that Ritchie was likely to go overboard with it.

But, despite the anger and frustration being released into the world with a quite massive bang and an impressive show of flames -strong enough to nearly knock Glenn and David off their feet, and strong enough to blast Paicey's glasses off his face so that he couldn't find them -it hadn't disappeared with just that. Nor had it disappeared with the cabinets thrown off the stage. Nor the confusing and hectic evacuation by helicopter to escape law trouble following that bang.

For when they arrived at an offsite building at another venue some twenty minute flight away to retrieve their belongings and get cleaned up, not only did they have to escort each other in, but found all their luggage they'd had at the festival grounds had been dumped into one room and left in completely unorganized piles, scattered about for all to deal with. Ritchie was in the same room with Jon, Paicey, Glenn, and David, and as expected, not pleased.

It had already built back up before they got inside and saw the state of their belongings, walking from the field at the far end of a parking lot where the helicopter had clearance to land.

Ritchie had walked swiftly ahead of everyone else without a word after receiving instructions where they were to go once inside to navigate to their impromptu room. His face was plastered with a stony 'I hate the world' expression the whole way there, and even from behind where the others couldn't see it, his gait -the way his heels seemed to flick up behind himself each time he lifted a foot up to take another step -said it all.

With the noise from the helicopter, lights in the landing area, on the building, and vehicles going around the building's lot further distorting the distance, the world was a disorienting blur for Paicey, and he'd taken timid, unsure steps forward once off the helicopter until Jon came up to him.

Initially, Jon was helping guide him, but on the way across the lot, seeing Ritchie's glare and sensing his dark aura, Jon steadily became overprotective in the way he was going about it -placing his hands on Paicey's shoulders and holding him in close to his side. By the time they reached the entrance to the building, Paicey was starting to feel embarrassed. He didn't say anything, submitting to the situation as usual, but he was sighing a lot, curling his free hand by his side, and casting a sidelong gaze that just screamed of getting fed up.

David wanted to help in any way he could, but the sheer anger in the air around had reduced his usual tendency to eagerly offer it down to timid, incomplete murmurs of "if there's anything I can do," to no one in particular before retreating to tread Glenn's heels as if seeking protection behind him.

Glenn was the only one seeming unaffected by the madness on the way inside. He went along, seeming to almost enjoy watching the others, naturally curious to see what was going to happen. 

Now inside, Glenn had a lit joint in his hand, and after each time he stole a glance from Ritchie to Jon and Paicey and looked away from both, he grinned like the Cheshire Cat. It was only Glenn who could find some level of amusement in the heat of the moment, and not feel upset that his luggage had been dumped right on top of David's in a messy heap.

On the other side of a bench in the venue changing room, Jon and Paicey's belongings were equally piled and tangled, making it questionable if whoever had handled their belongings had bothered to close the cases backstage and they'd just fallen open in transit, or if they'd just scooped everything up and thrown it around on purpose. Likely the latter. 

Ritchie's items were at least mostly in their own place, having been in a separate room to begin with and picked up at a different moment, though he would be in this room with everyone despite his displeasure. He was only keeping quiet now, as otherwise, the manager threatened to lock him out of the building and leave him to the mercy of any authorities that may have followed them. 

Instead, he'd snatched his belongings up, taken them to the far opposite end of the room from where everything had been left, and then proceeded to pull, push, and manhandle a good number of mobile shelves and storage racks available in the room into the middle, much in the same manner he'd dragged his cabinets to the edge of the stage, creating a partial barricade that he settled behind. David, Glenn, and Jon stood back and didn't dare move until he finished before approaching their luggage. Naturally, Paicey hung back with them.

Ritchie wasn't just pissed at the festival management, but he was also pissed -probably more so -at nobody backing him up, and at Jon and Paicey daring to challenge him. With this situation now, he was mad at the world. Unfortunately, being blinded, embarrassed, and also highly unsettled by the sudden and unwarned changes to schedule, Paicey was also worked up into a rare, world class mood. Both ensured that everyone would be miserable.

Glenn and David went to assess their luggage first. Glenn sat down on the bench and looked at it from above, appearing more intrigued than upset in his high state. He poked in the top layer with no sense of hurry.

David knelt down on the floor and leaned forward while attempting to pull everything of his out from under Glenn's, softly moaning about it. His hair hung over his face, and he had no intention of pushing it back, even if it made it somewhat difficult for him to see what he was doing. It might as well have been a security blanket shielding him from having to see all the upset around him, and someone potentially becoming aggressive.

"Alright then," Jon murmured, pulling Paicey in against his side as they stepped in after David and Glenn cautiously. "Our's is on the other side, between the bench and the storage shelves. It looks we've got quite the mess then too. If you want me to just clear all of mine out first, I can do that too, and then-"

Paicey finally snapped, pulling away from Jon and yelling.

"STOP THE FUSS!"

It caught all of them so far off guard to hear him shout in anger at anybody that Glenn flinched and dropped his joint to the floor. It landed in an exposed section of carpet between their dropped suitcases and everything that had tumbled out of them.

David whimpered softly, wishing he could crawl between the racks Ritchie had shoved into the middle of the room and disappear in them.

Jon took several steps away and looked at Paicey, eyebrows first raised as if taken aback, then guilt and shame crept into his features.

Ritchie just looked out from behind his barricade to glare daggers from the other side of the room. He was still pissed at Paicey for not backing him up -more than any other part of tonight. He just couldn't do anything aside from what he was told by whoever was in charge of something, whether it was wrong or right. And apparently, since it was never Ritchie who was in charge at festivals, it didn't matter what agreement they'd made with whoever was in charge of it -Paicey would simply go along with it, because God forbid he ever rebel from authority. God forbid he ever back Ritchie up on sticking to his guns instead of getting worked over by somebody trying to take advantage of them. But he did choose to snap for being embarrassed from getting fawned over. Why couldn't he have made himself useful for once earlier and snap like that at the promoters and managers?

The only reason Ritchie didn't keep glaring across the room was that it was pointless, knowing his intended target couldn't see well enough to pick up on it.

"For crying out loud, Jon; don't fuss! It's useless; it doesn't make it any better, so you might as well stop! Before this night gets any crazier -stop!"

Jon sat down on the bench by their luggage and ran his hands up through his hair with a sigh. He stayed there, looking bewildered, not even attempting to untangle his own items from Paicey's until the dust settled.

"Goodness! Why don't you just calm down?" Glenn drawled, audibly high now. 

That was right before pointing over the barricade across the room to Ritchie even as David winced and tugged on Glenn's other arm, mouthing _'stop, stop, stop!'_

"And what's got your knickers in a twist now that you've already blown up the stage? Both of you, will you calm down?"

Paicey and Ritchie both shouted at the exact same time with the same venomous tone.

_"No!"_

Orange specks flicked down from the tip of the dropped joint onto the carpet, and a faint smell of burning fabric began to rise. Alarmed, David snatched it up and shoved his foot down between the luggage where it had been. He held the joint out behind his back for Glenn to take while he continued leaning forward and stamping the carpet until he was certain there were no more sparks or a foreseeable chance of another fire breaking out.

Glenn took it from David and dragged on it calmly as if everything was perfectly fine. He simply sat back, casually crossing his legs and resting a hand in his hip and watched, curious to see what would happen next.

Nobody else dared move as Paicey tried to get over with Jon to sort out the mess they had, and with lack of depth perception and clear vision, he almost ran into the corner of a rack before tripping over the corner of Glenn's suitcase that stuck out in the walkway -and landing in an ungraceful heap on the floor.

Glenn snorted and began laughing softly into his hands.

David's eyes bugged in horror.

"Stop; you're going to embarrass him!" he hissed in Glenn's ear.

It was already far too late to prevent that. Turning a shade of scarlet in his cheeks, Paicey leaned forward and buried his face in his hands. The combination of shame, chaos, and eye strain were winding him up with a headache, and he'd had it.

Jon looked pained. He wanted so badly to run over, but knew that any show toward Paicey's vulnerable position would only further hurt his dignity than he already had. Instead, he sat miserably and elbowed Glenn in the shoulder. Hard. To everyone's relief, Glenn wasn't too high to take that hint yet, and he pulled it together and went back to rooting through his belongings.

Ritchie leaned out from behind a storage rack and stole a glance down the walkway. He raised his eyebrows and smirked at the sight before disappearing behind it again. 

Paicey was still on the floor, silently tripodding on his arms and leaning over, willing himself to regain his temper before he said something else he would quickly regret.

David reached down, flinching with each motion as if expecting to get lunged at -not necessarily by Paicey -and tapped his shoulder.

_"...Paicey?"_ he asked in a drawn out, nearly inaudible voice, and making it as clear as possible that he was making an offer, not implying need. "Would you _like_ some help?"

With a hard sigh and some hesitation, he finally nodded without even looking up at David, as if to admit defeat silently so that Ritchie wouldn't get the satisfaction of hearing it.

David walked the narrow, cleared path back to Paicey's belongings, letting him follow on his heels. From there, he let Jon take over with helping Paicey find his spare glasses in their luggage pile, then helping to sort out and pack the rest of their stuff up in silence. Not another word was spoken by anyone until they finished, and until David was quite certain he'd extracted everything of his belonging from Glenn's luggage.

By then, Glenn had found the one thing he was concerned about finding in the scattered luggage. He had white stains on the tip of his nose and looked to be a hundred miles away as he slowly tossed everything else back into his suitcase in a jumbled mess. 

Ritchie was still sitting on the other side of the room, having finished reorganizing his items and packing them away. He now sat on the front edge of a chair he had dragged over with him too, gripping the seat on either side of himself and glaring at his suitcase on the floor. He had shut everyone else out for the night, not just their time in this room, and sat isolated within his invisible dark thundercloud that was settling upon him more and more frequently. Nobody dared pull him out of it intentionally, and everyone treaded with caution to avoid doing so by accident.

Jon, having finished packing up, sat on the floor with Paicey, talking with him in low murmurs indistinguishable to anyone more that two feet away, trying to smooth things over with profuse apologies for getting him upset. He kept asking if he could do anything to make it better and pleading that it not be held against him. Paicey tried to reassure Jon in as equally quiet a way that he was okay now, he could see, everything was already forgiven, and that they'd be alright even if the night was anything but ideal. They didn't have much choice but to get through it anyway, so they'd figure out something -was his reasoning.

But Jon was tired out and one more outburst away from turning emotional. He was already overwhelmed from all the nerves, anger, and uncertainty floating around the room, so he kept on panicking until Paicey gave up on trying to reason with him and took him in his arms instead. There they stayed on the floor by their suitcases, leaning on each other exhaustedly and waiting for everyone else to finish packing and to get the all clear to leave.

_We've got trouble_ , David thought to himself, looking about the room through the veil of hair he still had flipped forward over his face and taking in the state of everyone. He had a feeling in his gut that the explosion onstage was only a small spark of the explosion building up within them -one which was going to lead to a loss far more severe than that of a pair of glasses. Whatever destruction that was to come would likely make tonight's fiery blast appear to be nothing at all.


End file.
